


Blessings Bestowed (Pilot Version)

by twiniitowers



Category: Damien (TV), The Omen (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:23:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twiniitowers/pseuds/twiniitowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please note the underage part is that Deana is seventeen and Ann is older. A few sex blurbs, but no sex scenes in the true sense. Part of the Thirty canon.<br/>I knew it was only a matter of time before Glen Mazzara's [i]Damien[/i] inspired me. And I'm going to put a big AU next to Ann Rutledge's name because I'm following my own canon and not what is being shown on TV.</p><p>Explicit for wording.</p><p>Thirty (the main story) written by me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blessings Bestowed

**May 1991**

Deana Patterson wasn't one to talk when it wasn't necessary. She did not feel threatened in any way that Paul Buher was driving her to an undisclosed location while her parents thought he was taking her to a conference for the Future Business Leaders of America because her car needed a repair. She wasn't one to complain about her part in all this. She kept her head down and filed her nails with an emery board until she saw the trees that looked familiar -- no, it couldn't have been. Absolutely couldn't have been. She saw these pictures in _Architectural Digest_ on the best privately owned winter cottages. Was she going to meet Damien Thorn today? No, that couldn't have been it. The tinge of excitement must have shown on her seventeen-year-old face because Paul turned to face her.

"Not yet, love."

"I didn't think so."  She thought of putting polish on her nails from the varnish pens that were in her purse but they were almost at the gate.

"I want you to meet someone very important, Deana."

Paul rolled down the drivers side window and typed in a code and Deana watched the gates open.

"Who will I be meeting?"

"You'll see."

Deana liked the tranquility of the lake, but she didn't think she was escorted up here to discuss the surroundings. One servant, and she took a guess, couldn't have been one hired by Richard Thorn took her suitcase from Paul as she stayed in the car trying to soak all of this in. Paul walked around and opened Deana's car door for her. They walked in the cottage and Deana kept her feelings to herself. This was the staircase that Damien used, in the kitchen china that Damien ate from, glasses he drank out of, and a bed he slept on. She almost paid no mind to the woman about Paul's age who greeted him with a kiss on the lips and an embrace.

"And you are Deana Patterson?"

"Yes -- and you are?"

"Ann Rutledge."

"I will leave you two ladies alone. Deana, I will pick you up, Sunday at six."

"All right. Thank you, Paul."

Ann Rutledge was struck by how gorgeous Deana was. Her long blonde hair and green eyes. That young figure. Her pinky ring no doubt covering her 666.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Sure."

"Come into the living room with me."  Ann walked over to the bar and poured two glasses of red wine from the collection she brought with her.

"I do have to wonder why I am here."

"You are entering university in September-- it's a very important time in a young woman's life.  I just want to get to know you better."

Deana didn't want to mince words. "Have you ever met Damien Thorn?"

Ann let out an I-wish laugh. "No. I tend to watch him from a distance. I work at Armitage Global."

"What do you do there?"

"I'm an attorney and I do other things."

Deana took off her ring. "Other things pertaining to this?"

Ann pushed up her skirt and slid her thigh high stocking off to reveal a 666 scar that was freshly outlined, the blood all dried and caked. Deana almost wanted to touch it.

"So you see I am on your side." She fixed herself. "But high school and college are two different...."

"Do you know what my role is?"

"No. I only know to guide you. In that table drawer next to you there is a folder with your name on it."

Deana opened up the envelope and carefully took out an acceptance letter from Roosevelt University.

"I didn't even apply to this school...."

"It's the school that leads you to the Beast."

Deana didn't give too much thought about her major other than maybe economics so she was surprised to see it specifically spelled out for her.

_Hospitality and Tourism Management._

"Am I going to work at Thorn Manor?"

"That was quite a leap there, Deana."

"Well, I really don't think I'm put on this Earth to be a maid. Even Damien Thorn's maid...."

"There's that fire inside of you. Inside of all of us, but you do realize if that was your part in this...."

"I would NEVER ever betray Damien or Satan."

"That is very good to know. Why don't you freshen up and use the restroom down the hall? And then we can have lunch on the patio?"

"Sure."

When Deana heard Ann walk towards the kitchen she turned the water off and took a walk upstairs. No one was going to tell her what to do. Even this Ann Rutledge person. She almost jumped out of her skin when there was a tap on her shoulder.

"Anxious aren't you?"

"I really don't like being told what to do."

"And neither do I...all right. Since you are up here."  Ann took the key out of her blouse pocket and unlocked the door that was in front of them.

Deana's eyes grew big. "What....the...fuck...?"

"Do you like?"

It was like a museum display, Damien's clothes, school uniforms, his red tricycle, photographs, and other possessions were all in front of her.

"May I?"

"Sure, Deana go ahead."

Deana took the military academy cap and placed it on her head. It fit her quite nicely.

"Where did you get this stuff?"

"It's mine."

"What does Damien know about himself exactly?"

"Nothing at all. He will be in the process of learning all of this stuff after you come into the scene. He just knows that darkness follows him and things happen around him, but never to him."

"May I have a photograph?"

"I suppose."

Deana picked out a picture of Damien of when he was entering university.

"He's certainly handsome."

"Yes and everything we do is for him...are you hungry?"

"I can eat." Deana took off the cap and placed it back on the holder.

"Let's go downstairs then."

* * *

Deana certainly loved a good meal but despised the staff serving it.

"We kind of think a like."  Ann stated as she finished her glass of iced-tea with fresh mint sprigs and lemon.

"That is why I don't think I am meant to be a servant." She whispered, "Well not in the traditional sense of the word."

"I quite like you, would you like to at least _see_ Damien?"

"Sure..."

"Come downstairs with me."

* * *

Deana went past the small wine cellar and saw carved into the walls were _Damien Thorn and Mark Thorn was Here._

"Do you masturbate?"

"Excuse me?"

Ann laughed, "I don't mean that in the crass way that it sounds. I just have a nightly ritual that I do and I was wondering if you did the same?"

"You mean do I think of Damien while I do it?"

"I have something better," Ann handed Deana a remote control that was near the TV, "Press yesterday's date. Six a.m."

Deana's eyes were riveted seeing Damien in the shower.

"He's being taped....why?"

She turned over to see Ann undress herself. "Please join me in pleasuring yourself to Satan's son..."

Deana was not really one for female-female interaction but she put her arms around Ann Rutledge and kissed her full on the lips. "Please fuck me, Ann in the name of Satan, and his glorious son."

* * *

**Later**

Deana sat on the floor of the living room watching TV as Ann talked on the phone in Richard Thorn's study. Which made her laugh on the inside, because of all of this really was Damien's.

"How are you?" Ann came in as her work was finished.

"Good. Thank you for the silk pajamas. I love them."  They were dark purple and in the men's style.

"You're welcome. Thank you for eating my pussy." 

Yes, this Deana Patterson was a keeper.

Deana didn't blush. "It was _my_ pleasure."

"If you like threesome's, a bunch of us, get together once a month, near to where Damien is to feed off his energy. I'm not pressuring you, honey. It's just something for you to consider. Like I said, everything we do is for The Beast. It's okay for you to say no..."

"Do you believe in monogamous relationships?"

Ann presented Deana with another glass of wine. "Yes, if it's what the two parties involved want.  Do you want children one day?"

"Yes. I never admitted that to anyone before....even myself...what's in this glass?"

"Only the best grapes."

"What's next on the agenda for this weekend?"

"I thought we could go shopping and pick out your college wardrobe. You do have a good sense of style so I don't think you need to change it up too much.  Would you like another surprise?"

"Sure."

Ann pressed a button that was on a key fob.

_"Hello, Mark. Do you want to go our box in Wrigley to see the Cubs play?"_

Ann pressed the mute button. "This is a real conversation...but we use it see what Damien is doing, if we don't have access to our screens."

"Apparently he wants to go with his "cousin" to a baseball game."

"Yes and that means not only the official Thorn security will be there but also security supplied by Armitage to protect Damien."

"And Mark?"

"If needed; but he's not our priority."

"Ann?"

"Yes, Deana?"

"I don't know but I just got a feeling that lesbianism matters in my life, but I am not one...."

"You're getting a message...are you scared?"

"No."

"I will certainly help you with this....you can sleep with me if you'd like..."

"On Damien's bed?"

"Of course."  Ann held her hand for Deana to take.

* * *

**Damien's bedroom**

Too bad he wasn't fucking anyone tonight. Those were the best sexual moments for Ann Rutledge when Damien was fucking someone else. The rape and murder of the student teacher last month was one of the best nights of her life. And she was with no one but her very own hand. But swirling her tongue around in this girl's cunt in the name of Damien Thorn and his father was a good substitute.

"Oh...oh...Ann.....hail Satan....hail his beautiful son.......Damien...."

This girl was divine in the evil dark light. She was going places.

Deana thought she might choke on her own ecstasy. "It's all for you, _my sweet Damien_ , it's all for you...."

It was at that moment that Ann knew for certain that Deana was going to be Damien's wife and she would take good care of his future bride until it was time for her to start her job at Thorn Manor and come face to face with the Antichrist.

 

  ****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last hurrah with Ann Rutledge before Deana starts college.
> 
> This chapter contains some vulgar imagery and situations....if this offends...don't read.

The black box with the satin red ribbon on it was placed on the immaculate made bed and caught Deana Patterson's eye before she was even able to put her books on her desk. What was this? 

After she put her books down, she made her way to the box and took out the small note on a simple white card. 

_For your graduation. Hails to you, A.R._

Deana was thinking it was a satchel for her college tomes, but, her smile briefly turned to a flushed anger when she saw what was inside. Was this some kind of a sick joke? What in the hell? 

"I see you are home." Ann came out of her bathroom with a towel as she proceeded to dry her hands. 

"Ann, you better explain this fucking gift to me...I don't need you to have my destiny with Damien."

The older woman let out a small laugh,"Oh, honey...it's nothing like that. I have one too. I thought you would like to be involved in a special project."

"Such as?"

"I have some unfinished business and I thought you'd like to accompany me. There's a woman that needs your assistance...she will be working at Thorn but needs a little push to make that happen. Are you up for it?"

Deana thought about it. Every move. Every action will lead her closer to Damien. That and her love for him and Satan was all that mattered at this point in her life.

"Yes...shall I try this on?"

"Yes...I will wait."

"Lock the door, Ann. I shall return." She took the box with her and headed towards her bathroom.

* * *

 

Deana felt a huge surge of power come over her. Who would have fucking thought that wearing a nun's habit complete with the cross that disgusted her would give her such a feeling of ecstasy and delight?

She put her fingers all over her body. "Fuck you, Jesus Christ...fuck you all over my pussy....fuck you...."

Deana opened the door to find Ann Rutledge, wearing the nun's headdress, spread eagle on her bed, "Oh fuck me, you glorious child of Satan, fuck me.........." with her fingers in her own juices waiting for her to suckle. 

The teenager who would be graduating high school in a week crawled on her own bed, planting kisses on the older woman's lips, reaching for her hands to lick clean.

_Hail Satan._

_Hail Damien Thorn._

_Do What Thy Will._

* * *

 

**Two weeks later**

Mother Superior Crenshaw was a portly woman of average height. It was eleven o'clock at night and the buzzer rang her out of slumber. She made sure to put her habit back on least any of the younger Sisters saw things that were not appropriate for them to be seeing. She already had a problem with Sister Elizabeth who had to repent for not dispensing of the pornographic images she brought into the rectory. 

Her sensible sturdy black shoes made no noise as she pressed the button.

"Who is calling?"

"I am so sorry to be arriving so late...it is Sisters Agnes and Hilda from St. Anthony's Basilica." Ann stated.

"Oh...I received your letter last week...do come in, Sisters. It's raining buckets out there."

Mother Superior Crenshaw opened the door and was surprised to see how young Hilda was. What a special and glorious case. For a young woman who just graduated high school to know her duty was to serve the Lord Jesus Christ while others were having filthy sex in roadhouses was wonderful to say the least. 

"Hello, Mother Superior Crenshaw." Deana put forth. That woman was filth. 

"Let's get you out of your wet coats and I'll put a tea kettle on."

"I'm afraid, Sister Hilda had a long journey and needs her rest...but I'll be happy to have a cup of tea with you."

"I'm not feeling well, but it was the Lord's Calling that I take this journey tonight..."

"You'll do know good if you are catching a cold, Sister Hilda. I haven't had time to get a room ready for you and Sister Agnes...why don't you take my room? I'll escort you..."

Deana grabbed her blue suitcase.  "Thank you...maybe, I'll have a cup of tea later."

"Just rest. It'll be the best thing for you. I will say a prayer for you before going to bed later."

_Fucking pig repressed whore._

* * *

Deana sat on the bed for five minutes. Elizabeth Gibson was in the next room. Whatever Ann was going to do with Mother Superior Crenshaw was not Deana's concern. She had a job to do and she was going to succeed.

Deana got up and knocked on the door before opening it. 

A woman a few years older than herself, but still young, turned on her light. She was wearing a cotton nightgown that was buttoned up to the top. Her hair was dirty blonde and braided into a ponytail. 

"Hello, Sister. I'm Sister Hilda."

"From St. Anthony's Basilica? We've heard so much about you.....I'm Sister Elizabeth."

"Oh dear me...I'm having trouble getting my scapular off...and I don't want to tear it...will you assist, Sister?"

"I shouldn't...." 

"Why not?"

"I shouldn't tell you, Sister Hilda...Mother Superior Crenshaw said you are a very special case....and I'm not worthy in your presence for I have sinned. I have repented to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for bringing pornographic materials in the rectory....it was wrong and I'm sorry...so I really shouldn't be putting my hands on your person."

"I have secrets as well, Sister Elizabeth, but they will have to wait.  I need to take a hot bath," Deana turned her back and headed towards the bathroom, she whispered in the softest voice, "My nipples get hard just thinking about it."

"What?"

"Excuse me?" Deana put a shake in her voice before she turned around.

"What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing, Sister. You know something? The bath can wait. I don't want to wake the others. I understand you are quite special too.  You gave up getting your Masters Degree in communication."

"Christ is my master."

Deana slowly took off her habit and Elizabeth got a view of her thigh high stockings with lace trim. 

Mother Superior Crenshaw only allowed thick ribbed stockings in the winter months. She bit her lip. What was this Sister doing in a black push up bra? She kept her coif on. Elizabeth knew if she had a penis it would be erect at this moment. 

"Let me slip into something a little more becoming."  
  
Black high heels. 

"Sister Hilda, I don't know what's going on but you....."

"There is no Sister Hilda. My name is Deana and I'm here to help you..." Deana bent down and put a kiss on Elizabeth's quaking lips, she flinched for a bit before returning the kiss in kind. May I sleep with you?"

"I don't know....."  
  
"That porn that was thrown away was it lesbian porn?"  
  
"Yes...oh, yes, Deana...we are sinning....we can't do this.....It is wrong...we should pray to Jesus for only he can save us."

"You have two choices my lovely...you can either go out there and die with the others or lay back down on the bed and let me eat your pussy."

* * *

**Hours Later**

Deana took a red rouge lipstick out of her bag and drew an inverted cross on both their foreheads.

"How do you feel?" Deana asked.

"Liberated."  Deana gave her a spare pair of thigh high stockings and heels that were just her size.

"That's the power of Satan. Now we just have to do one more thing."

Deana had to admit this whole experience was hot. The coif, black push up bra, thong panties, black silk thigh high stockings, and high heels.

"What's that?"

"To go for a walk..."

Elizabeth didn't scream as she saw her sisters dead in the hallway, all stabbed to death in various places. Slumped in positions like child's toys that lost their batteries.

"Who did this?"  
  
"They committed suicide, Elizabeth and that's not your problem. Let's see what Ann is up to."

They walked to kitchen where Elizabeth let out a surprise gasp to see Mother Superior Crenshaw strangled to death with her rosary while Ann Rutledge was still in her habit. 

"You my darling, must be, Elizabeth Gibson...I hear you are going to be working for Thorn Industries."

"Yes...yes, I am...."

"Good, good. The two of you look absolutely gorgeous....I have to play the part a little bit longer to get us out of here safely...but if the two of you go into the chapel...there's a video camera ready to film the two of you....the last one in has to shove the crucifix up their cunt."

"As you wish. Hail Satan...." Deana nodded and led the way leading Elizabeth to follow. 

* * *

 

 

_**Chicago Sun Tribune Headline** _

**Murder at the rectory, Mother Superior Crenshaw and six Sister's killed in bizarre case**

**No motives or suspects at press time.**

* * *

 

The newspaper was folded smartly under the arm of Elizabeth who felt the six-six-six growing inside of her waiting to make its appearance behind her ear. She could feel it. It was wonderful. Fuck God and his inept son Jesus Christ. She was saved by Satan and it was wonderful. She walked up to the secretary and smiled. 

"Hello. I have a nine a.m. interview with Paul Buher."

"What is your name please?"  
  
"Elizabeth Gibson."

The secretary smiled at the young woman dressed impeccably in a navy blue Halston suit.

"Why don't you have a seat? Mr. Buher will be with you shortly."

 

* * *

 

**THE END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> What's in the pilot may not be what is in the finished version.
> 
> The lesbianism is so she can relate to her daughter Millie later on.
> 
> Damien and Deana have a faithful marriage and are only with one another for their time together.


End file.
